


The Weight of a Crown

by volleyballtrash



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6851449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volleyballtrash/pseuds/volleyballtrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa Tooru is the childish captain of the Aoba Johsai Volleyball Club and his serious best friend, Iwaizumi Hajime, is the Vice Captain and ace. When the weight of the team begins to crush Oikawa, only one person can become his pillar.<br/>- This is Haikyuu IwaOi (boy x boy)<br/>- This is a mix of comedy and seriousness, and of course romance<br/>- Will be updated every 10-15 days<br/>- smut</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The King of Pranks

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story ever so bear with me! I'm also not very good at writing dialogue so if something sounds unbelievable or awkward, I apologize.  
> IwaOi is just one of my favorite ships ever so I really wanted to write a fanfic! I hope you enjoy it!

It was quite rare that Iwaizumi woke up and was automatically pissed off.

He was sleeping on a cheap bed that creaked at even the slightest movement. The sheets were old, ratty, showcased some suspicious stains, and were too thin to provide any warmth in the drafty room. The bed that was meant to be a luxury thanks to his position as Vice Captain was more of a nuisance than anything else. His muscles were screaming at him too, letting him know that he'd overdone his workout the day before. There was a window right next to his sorry excuse for a bed too, so the sunlight and annoying chirp of the cicadas seemed to pour through like a river. This made the room that was already filled with the sound of snoring exceptionally noisy. All of these factors contributed to Iwaizumi's horrid mood, but the thing that bothered him the more than anything else wasn't the weight on his chest that threatened to suffocate him, but the source of said weight. He peered up, eyes that were still half-shut swimming up a broad figure with muscles that were evident even under the alien-designed pajamas. The person sitting on top of him, knees on either side of his shoulders, had chocolate brown eyes with ruffled hair that bared the same rich color. Even straight out of bed, his hair looked perfect. That stupid smirk with the pink tongue slipping out, paired with a wink and a peace sign was what almost pushed Iwaizumi off the edge. Almost.

It was the sight of a permanent marker in the boy's other hand that brought a booming yell from the depths of Iwaizumi's guts, waking up the entire Aobajohsai Volleyball Club. 

"OIKAWA."

Oikawa Tooru, Captain of the Volleyball Club, immediately jumped off of Iwaizumi, dropping the marker on his face. He tried to dash straight out of the room but his feet quickly got caught in a futon laid neatly on the floor and gracefully fell onto his face. Iwaizumi was delayed though as someone had masterfully swaddled him in the dirty sheets like an infant. In the time it took for the fuming teen to wrestle his way out of the sheets, Oikawa had already regained his footing and made a dead sprint towards the kitchen. Iwaizumi practically launched himself from his mattress and made his way through the room, avoiding his teammates who were all sitting up with their eyes glued to the Vice Captain. A few of them were whistling at him, some were silent and awe-struck, but they were all red-faced. 

He kicked the door to the bathroom open with enough force to tear it from its hinges and completely ignored the roar of his teammate Kindaichi who was currently on the toilet. Iwaizumi watched his face turn red as he inspected himself in the mirror and saw "PROPERTY OF OIKAWA" scribbled across his forehead as well as a thick mustache drawn above his upper lip with a goatee on his chin to match.

Kindaichi, who had hurriedly stood up and pulled his underwear back up to his waist, let his painfully embarrassed expression turn into a wide grin. He raised one arm and pointed at Iwaizumi, "Dude, your face--"

Iwaizumi's head immediately snapped towards his underclassman. "Laugh and you're dead."

He then left the bathroom, stomped his way through the sleeping quarters where he once again avoided countless eyes on him, and went into the dining area where he found the cheeky little shit sitting at one of the long tables buttering a bagel and whistling.

He tilted his head to the side and smiled softly, "Good morning, Iwa-channn! You're looking handsome as always." 

"I'll look even more handsome with my hands around your neck."

Oikawa feigned confusion. "What's got you so cranky this early?"

Iwaizumi huffed and grabbed his lifelong friend by the collar, bringing his face closer until their noses were almost touching. "I only have two things to say to you. One: you're going to call the marker company right now and ask them how to remove..." Iwaizumi gestured to his face as he spoke,"...this. Two: brace yourself." He brought one hand back and prepared to smack the annoyingly perfect face in front of him while Oikawa struggled to escape the grip on his collar. He then began to move as if he were spiking a volleyball down to the floor of a gymnasium when the loud clearing of someone's throat made him freeze mid-swing.

"I hope we're all getting along this morning." Coach Nobuteru stood across the room, having just emerged from the coaches' designated hallway of the training camp. 

Iwaizumi loosened his grip on Oikawa's shirt, but not before giving him a look so intimidating that the Hulk would shy away from it. "Sorry Coach, just having some breakfast with the Captain."

"I see. Well don't eat too much; we're about to go for a run."

Iwaizumi was suddenly aware of the ache in his legs and regretted running around the building like an animal after a bad night of sleep. He trudged over to the almost comically large refrigerator and sifted through piles of frozen packaged meat for an ice pack. Meanwhile, both the heavyset Coach and Oikawa sat down at the dining table, Oikawa returning his attention to the buttering of his bagel. The rest of the team slowly filled the dining hall and piled breakfast foods onto their plates, then also took places at the long tables. Iwaizumi watched as the last two boys to wake up and enter the room were Issei Matsukawa and Takahiro Hanamaki. Matsukawa was a middle blocker, and rightfully so, as he towered over many people at his height of almost 188 cm (6'2"). His face was usually slack and void of emotion, which made it that much more surprising whenever he cracked a joke or two. Hanamaki was similar, being the quietest, most collected player on the team. It took time for most people to warm up to him, but it seemed he took an automatic liking to Iwaizumi. He constantly challenged the ace to arm wrestling competitions, but lost miserably every time. The two third years looked up from their plates when Iwaizumi took his seat across from them and simultaneously began to choke on the slices of pancake in their throats. 

Hanamaki desperately reached for his glass of orange juice and chugged it in an effort to make the food pass through his esophagus before sputtering out: "Y-your face! What's on your face?!"

Iwaizumi felt his face scrunch into a scowl and gestured to the name written in chicken-scratch on his forehead as he spoke, "He did it."

Matsukawa, who had been coughing and pounding his chest, chimed in. "You must be really close if he's bold enough to call you his property."

Iwaizumi knew that it was true. They'd been practically born into the friendship, as their mother's had supposedly become close in a baby clothing store and decided that their sons, who were both due in 3 months, should meet each other. Ever since birth, they'd been by each other's side, and as a result Iwaizumi couldn't recall a time when the idiot wasn't next to him. When you're around someone almost every single day, of course you become comfortable. It was difficult and annoying to admit, but Oikawa was definitely nothing less than Iwaizumi's best friend.

"I can't believe you're letting him off the hook."

 

"Ohhh trust me, I'm going to get his ass back for this. Usually I just smack him and move on, so he won't even be suspecting me to get him back this time. I'll get him good."

Hanamaki raised an eyebrow. "You said 'usually' as if this is a regular occurrence."

Suddenly Iwaizumi was feeling fired up. "It is a regular occurrence! At least he didn't draw something lewd like he has in the past. You have no idea how many times I've woken up with a pair of nuts on my face!" 

The last sentence flew from Iwaizumi's mouth a little bit louder than intended, attracting the attention of the entire dining hall. It took him a few seconds before he realized exactly what he had just exclaimed and how incredibly wrong it sounded, and he immediately felt his cheeks burning. There was complete silence, except for the hearty laugh that Iwaizumi, as he'd heard it countless times before, knew was that of the prankster himself from somewhere else in the room. 

"SHUT UP, SHITTYKAWA."


	2. The King of Flirting

The sun was shining brilliantly, only slightly hidden by the clouds, and there was a timid breeze that made the branches on the cherry blossom trees sway steadily while the same winds made the grass move erratically. With the chirp of the cicadas, the sound of light conversation, and the steady rhythm of his own footsteps in his ears, Iwaizumi felt tranquil. The only things he had to focus on were controlling his breathing and keeping a constant pace, but the fluid motion of his arms, his legs-- they came naturally. His mind began to wander like a dog let off its leash, allowing him to escape from the stresses in his life, and he hated that the sensation was only temporary. It had been about ten minutes since the team left for their morning run, and Iwaizumi had settled into the familiar, comforting rhythm. 

The rhythm was soon interrupted by the heft of someone's back as he ran straight into it.

Iwaizumi bounded off of the person in front of him who had stopped abruptly, and fell onto the sidewalk. Cursing at the pain in his lower back, he peered up at the looming figure in front of him and clicked his tongue. “Oikawa, what the hell?”

The pompous little shit had stopped running because a group of girls had approached him. They were no different from the dozens of other fangirls that flocked Oikawa daily; they all had long hair, cakey makeup, and wore their school uniforms with quite revealing altercations. There was one girl in particular who look skimpier than the rest, and she was batting her clumped eyelashes so fast Iwaizumi was sure she could generate enough wind to blow the cherry blossoms right off of the trees. 

“Aoba Johsai? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that school,” she said, referring to the name in small print of the front of Oikawa’s running jacket. She had a nasal voice. Very pitchy. Very annoying.

Oikawa lifted on hand and began to rummage it through his hair while he closed his eyes, tilted his head, and gave her a toothy grin. It was the automatic pose he made whenever he talked to women. “Ah, it’s in the Miyagi Prefecture. We’ve been here for a training camp for the past week.”

Iwaizumi, more than a little pissed that he was blatantly ignored, got help from two teammates and was lifted from the ground. He and the rest of the group did what they did every time Oikawa was stopped in the middle of their runs: stand back and watch. Some of them had the worst luck with women and liked to study the Captain’s “techniques” as if he were teaching them how to change a tire or pay taxes. Most of them, like Iwaizumi, didn’t interject because they knew it simply wasn’t worth it as they would just be stopped again later. They just watched him flirt in annoyance at the fact that women were practically drawn to him.

_ If only they knew what a handful of garbage he is _ , Iwaizumi thought to himself.

When the ten-minute mark was approaching and the team still hadn’t resumed their run, he started to get restless. As did Matsukawa, but for an entirely different reason. He had been whispering with Hanamaki for a few minutes, and Iwaizumi could only catch snippets of what the boy was uttering, but he could definitely pick up the sense of uncertainty and a hint of urgency in his voice. After leaning towards the two, he heard: “She’s way out of my league,” and Hanamaki’s response in that deadpan voice: “I think everyone’s out of your league,” followed by a submissive: “That’s true.” Before Iwaizumi could interject, Hanamaki practically pushed the tall brunet forward. He swaggered out of the crowd of boys, over to the Captain and his groupies, with a smile on his face so creepy that it made Iwaizumi want to call the police. He took a deep breath, looked back at the team for reassurance, and received thirty upturned thumbs. The teen then puffed up his chest and lightly tapped the shoulder of one of the girls surrounding Oikawa. The conversation visibly died down and the girl slowly turned around to face him, then said something that Iwaizumi was too far away to hear. Matsukawa gave her a brief response, and she offered one of her own. The team watched in infatuation as a conversation ensued between the two and were pleasantly surprised; usually Matsukawa would tap the girl on the shoulder and get turned down right then and there, so it was a wonder as to why was he suddenly having succe--

Hanamaki was the first to burst out laughing when the girl pushed Matsukawa away with the force of a sumo wrestler and returned her attention to Oikawa. Matsukawa, newly dejected and embarrassed, drooped his shoulders and pulled his upturned collar back down. 

He was visibly conflicted as he sulked back over to the team, and Iwaizumi put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him aside, “A+ for effort.”

Matsukawa rolled his eyes and moved away while Iwaizumi chuckled lightly. He watched as the boy received pats on the back and a few high fives from the rest of the team, and a light smack on the rear from Hanamaki along with a “Maybe next time, champ.”

When the laughter around him died down, Iwaizumi took it upon himself to clear his throat so loudly that the group of schoolgirls around Oikawa stopped squawking. Even a murder of crows perched on a power line above their heads were frightened and took their leave, ascending into the sky. Oikawa made eye contact with the ace, which only prompted Iwaizumi to focus all of his rage into his gaze. He saw his best friend visibly shudder, and he silently apologized to the girls, waved goodbye, and jogged over to the rest of the team. 

“Sorry, Iwa-chan,” he said as he approached, “that took longer than I expected.”

“Did you at least get any of their phone numbers?” Iwaizumi said, with some bite in his words.

“If you’re jealous, just say so--” Oikawa was cut off by a kick in his rear from Iwaizumi and fought back tears. His nickname in summer camp five years ago was Thunder Thighs for a reason.  

“I’m only jealous because they don’t have to see your annoying face 24/7.”

The captain didn’t reply; he simply smiled at the hostility that he’d gotten used to being the target of for the last 17 years. He then looked around at the rest of the team and clapped his hands together. 

“Let’s get back to our run, shall we?”

* * *

 

After an invigorating run in the countryside, the volleyball team returned to the training camp, tired and hungry. There had been no more interruptions since Oikawa was first stopped, and so the team continued to jog for almost forty minutes. After that, Iwaizumi not only felt a slight sting in his legs, but he also couldn’t ignore the emptiness in his stomach. There were volunteer chefs at the camp, and for lunch they made close to 500 rice balls and placed them in one large bowl in the center of one of the long tables in the dining area. Within five minutes of walking into the dining area, Iwaizumi learned one thing: when around twenty teenage boys are reaching for food from a single bowl, people get hurt. It took about seven kicks to the shin (all of which he returned with a kick aimed at the other person’s rear end) and three elbows to the chin (all of which he narrowly dodged by bending over backwards as if he were in the Matrix) to learn said lesson, but it was all worth it when he ended up with the largest pile of rice balls in front of him. Hanamaki had the second largest pile as he had stricken up a deal with Matsukawa that if he gave him three-fourths of his pile, Hanamaki would give him tips on how to impress girls. He didn’t look like it, but Hanamaki was substantially popular with women. The middle blocker happily gave up his food in exchange for the master’s wisdom. 

Iwaizumi was amused, but he had bigger fish to fry. “Guys, in case you’ve forgotten, I’m still pissed.”

“Ah,” Hanamaki started, before taking a bite out of one of his rice balls and continuing with a full cheek, “you mean the Captain’s little joke this morning?”

Iwaizumi flicked away a grain of rice that had flown out of his friends mouth and onto his face, “Yes, that. I need to get him back before we leave camp tomorrow morning.”

Matsukawa leaned forward in his seat, “I’m down for revenge and all, but it was just a harmless prank. Are you sure it’s worth it?”

Iwaizumi scoffed. “A harmless prank? No, this was a declaration of war. I’m not going to let that leech get away with everything. Let’s teach him a lesson for once.”

“What exactly do you have in mind?” 

“Hmmm…” Iwaizumi leaned back in his seat and took a bite out of a rice ball. As he moved the food in his mouth, he sifted through ideas in his mind. He’d never pulled a prank on anyone before; it simply wasn’t in his character. What could he do that would piss Oikawa off almost as much as he had been pissed off that morning? “Ah! The pie!”

Both Hanamaki and Matsukawa displayed expressions of reluctance and disbelief.

“Not the pie,” Matsukawa breathed.

“Yes,” Iwaizumi nodded, “the pie. Meet me in the kitchen after dinner, okay?”

Matsukawa gulped, while Hanamaki’s reluctance had turned into excitement. The three of them nodded at each other before reaching into their respective piles of rice balls and eating them in silence. Iwaizumi’s eyes were drawn across the room at the handsome captain with that perfect chocolate brown hair and the eyes that matched, and the signature smile. 

_ Prepare yourself, Trashykawa, _ he thought to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you're enjoying so far! I just wanted to say that the school year is wrapping up and I can't wait because summer means lots of free time to write! I'll try to update within 10-15 days, maybe faster if I am somehow cured of writers' block forever lol. But I'll try my best! I PROMISE THERES SOME GOOD STUFF COMING SOON SO STAY TUNED Y'ALL. ITS ABOUT TO GET LIT


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